Author's Note:  Ooh, the game's afoot.  I like it; everyone's guessing already.  I'm thinking of a big plot twist a few chapters ahead.  *grinning wickedly*  But for now, enjoy the game.

Thanks to mya, The Great One (You mean Eriol's job?  How about a piss-off-Syaoran-er.  Of course, I know who the kidnapper is. *getting defensive* it's a surprise), Elley, KayJuli, Kitty Neko, Silly*Niecy (trot, trot), Yutai (*shrugs* my mouth's zipped), bishonen lovah, Rhea (coughagreementcough).

The Hunt For A Cherry Blossom

Chapter 11:  The Opening Move

April 17

I'm squinting my eyes down at my suspect list, all scribbled over with lines and circles and checks, looking like an unemployed worker's rendered help wanted pages.  I'm down to the last page and the phone stares overheatedly back at me.  It's been two weeks since the madman's first letter and today's the deadline.  Half the precinct's jumpy with anticipation, giving nervous sideways glances at each telephone ring, every letter that is distributed, every person who walks in for help. 

Hwang's been hanging around and I've been forced to talk with him.  I used to think his attitude was just for the sake of annoying people, but I've discovered that its completely natural, the sneering condescending arrogance.  He actually goes out of his way to be frustrating.

He knows more about the letter bomber than I do, and doesn't let me forget it.  Always some subtle way to tell me.  Right now, he's perched at his desk (Kaho moved him opposite me two days ago) drumming a pencil and watching me with his stupid gaze.  "Just waiting…"

I hush him with a glare as I reach for the phone to investigate the next name.

"Still with the list?  I would've thought your police instincts should've told you to put some more time tracking down this mad bomber."

I 'yes, yes' into the phone, and slam it down onto its cradle and cross off another name.  "Fuck off Hwang; why don't you take the initiative, considering this is the guy you haven't caught after how many months of investigation?"  He shuts up, offended and finding no way to answer me, and I barely contain a superior smirk.

"Sir?!"  The on duty operator is running down the aisle, fast approaching our desks.

"Yes?"

"There's a bomb threat called in from the downtown library, the depository on third."

I nearly topple my mug in my haste to jump out of my chair.  "What's the status?" 

"Ticking, sir.  They found it on a bench inside fifteen minutes ago.  The bomb disposal unit's on the way."

I quickly snatch at my coat, barely registering Hwang as he follows.  "And the scene?"

"They're still evacuating the people."

I nod as I run through the doors and head for the car.  Once Hwang's in the other seat, we speed off downtown in a show of sirens and flashing lights.  We don't talk as I'm rushing down avenues, slowly recognizing the congestion pattern of police cars and standby paramedics.  A fire engine rests a few yards off too.   I stop the car on the other rim of the commotion and get out, shoving my way through the gathering passersby while using my badge to get the on guard officers let me pass.   "Where are we at?"

The policeman pushes some reporters back, smacking away a few microphones, before he turns to acknowledge my presence.  "They've just finished evacuating the building.  We've gotten the building's gas and electricity shut off.  The bomb squad's five minutes away."

"Okay.  We'll just have to wait."  I see Hwang on the other side of the semi circle, talking to people in suits, government agents probably.  The faint call of sirens might be the bomb disposal unit.  But they come too late…

It's chaos when the bomb explodes, unexpectedly rumbling and bursting out of the library in the breath of fire and debris.  The force knocks over some police officers that stood too close as the brick and dust fly everywhere.  I stabilize myself from falling over by gripping a police barricade, ears ringing with the aftermath of the bomb.  The area's flooded with smoke and screams as I try to get my bearings straight.  Limbs and people fly everywhere around me, running and panicking, the other police officers equally as dazed and confused.  I squint hard at the building and can make out small isolated fires inside the library hallway and the charred and cracked front of the building.  The glass doors are now only metal frames with jagged glass lining.

I finally find myself gulping fresh air a few feet from my previous position.  Six firemen are dragging their hose toward the building.  I stoop to calm my nerves down amidst the raining debris.

Half an hour later, the street's cleared of civilians and I'm surveying the damage.  Despite the flames and force of the explosion, the bomb wasn't too bad, in terms of doing structural damage anyway.  If anyone had actually opened the package, however, their head would probably be over in the next block.  "Is it safe to go in yet?"

The police chief stops talking on his radio and turns to me.  "What?"

"Is it safe to go in yet?"

"Sure, sure.  It's a bit wet, but there's no serious damage to the building."

I sweep a glance at the thick layer of stone and rock littering the front steps, but start to approach the building cautiously.  There's the smell of smoke, and water rains in frustrating droplets from the ceiling.  The hallway walls are scorched, a few of them having their drywall ripped right out.  The board ceiling tiles are sodden and sagging with the weight of the water.  Hwang and the two government officials are cordoning off an area to my right, a section of particularly bad damage and filled with wood pieces.  "Is this where the explosion occurred?"

Hwang turns away, rolling his eyes.  "No, we're just taping this section off for the fun of it."

That telltale sign of an impending headache burns somewhere at my temples.  "Fuck off, Hwang."  I decide to address one of the government agents, barring that they aren't complete pricks.  "I'm Detective Li; I have a case I think this madman may be responsible for."

The taller of the two men nods in my direction.  "Too bad we couldn't get to it before it exploded."

At their feet are the remnants of the bench and a heap of half singed paper bits.  "Any clue left behind?"

"No, looks pretty much destroyed.  Worker says it was a wrapped up like a birthday present.  Thought someone left it behind by accident so she went to go pick it up.  Then she heard it ticking and called the police.  Probably dropped off…"  He takes a look at his watch and a moment to calculate.  "An hour and a half ago."

"No note?"

"Usually is, but probably completely destroyed in the blast."  They turn back around and start to discuss among themselves.

Hwang has his arms crossed over his chest.  "Dead end."

I grudgingly realize he's right and head back to the car.

____________________________________________________

Two days have passed and I glare despairingly at the rows of reporters in the waiting room.  Police representatives are trying desperately to repel them with 'no comment' without success.  Kaho's pacing up and down her office, occasionally looking over me and Hwang.  "Well?"

I pick up the evidence bag and glance at the letter.  "Dated two days ago; mailed across town.  No prints."

"Great.  You do realize this is going to end up on the front page of the newspapers tomorrow?  First a bombing and then a follow up note?  We'll be swarmed with even more reporters."  I eye her worried as she continues to wear a rut into the concrete floor.  The mayor must really be on her back.  "Any idea what he's talking about?"

The straight capitals stare back at me.  'Couldn't start a game without fireworks could we?  We'll start out easy.  You have the next move.  Two weeks exactly.  Professor Plum in the kitchen with the knife.'  "Clue."

"How appropriate.  But what does it mean?"

"Something literal probably."

Kaho arches an eyebrow.  "Plum?"

"I don't know; it doesn't make much sense."

Hwang leans back in his chair, finger pressed together in a ridiculous attempt at looking intelligent.  "Kitchen and knife may represent restaurant.  How about one that serves something with plums."

I roll my eyes.  "Yeah, so we what?  Put an officer in every restaurant that serves plum in the entire city?"

Kaho shakes her head.  "It's too time consuming.  Besides, we don't have enough officers to even cover half of the city's restaurants.  We don't even know what the letter really means.  For all it could be, it might be about a Professor who likes plums."  She dismisses us with a hasty 'go' and a threat of not telling reporters anything unless we want to lose our tongues.

_________________________________________________

I lift my head from the bombing report finding the tall government agent looking down at me.  He drops a thick file onto the desk, impassive as ever.  "My office has decided that you would prove useful in our investigation.  This is a copy of our files on the bomber."

My hands are already skimming across the manila folder, ready to pry through the endless leads that could possibly be hidden in it.  "Thank you; this is much appreciated."

He nods curtly, beginning to walk away before throwing back, "You are to meet with us tomorrow in our field office.  We have left instructions with Chief Mizuki.  You are expected to cooperate fully."

I scowl partly, shaking off the irritation of procedure and immediately start to flip through the many pages in the folder.  There are photographs of the bombing locations, some scorched, some untouched and pristine, photocopies of retrieved scraps of handwriting, burned and ripped.  Copies of field notes and psychological profiles appear every now and then, appended to photos and bios of the victims and some potential suspects.  Their names too, have been crossed off and added to and circled.

I turn to the psychological profile and skim the list for an idea of who I'm up against.  'Male probably 25-35, may be incredibly neat by the meticulousness of his lettering, may hold grudge against society for reasons unknown.  However, there is indication of upset against government institutions.'

The next page describes the second letter bomb, a package shipped like a Christmas package, neatly wrapped and bowed.  The victim was a twenty eight year old woman, a genetic researcher at the local University.

The next victim was a fifty-year-old man, a clerk for the local branch of the revenue agency.  Bomb disguised in plain paper wrapping.  Portion of inside letter found two feet from the body, half burned and smeared from water damage.

An unopened briefcase confiscated at Tomoeda city hall.  No letter included.

The list goes on, a nine month spree which fits a strict pattern.  Each attack came a month exactly from the other, this one right on schedule.  My stomach tells me I'm hungry but I'm not even a quarter of the way through skimming the file, much less knowing it front to back.  I sip at the bitter coffee and settle deeper into the chair, going through the mess of eyewitness accounts, victim profiles and crime scene forensics.

___________________________________________________

The room is big and open, a wall of glass facing outward, a giant oval conference table in the center.  I mindlessly try to flatten what I know is desk hair, fidgeting in suit and tie while watching the assemblage of men and women gather at the opposite end of the table.  There are seven of them, probably the supervisors and chiefs, all more bureaucrat and politician than law enforcement.  The two government agents are sitting to my right, completely immobile with routine.

One of the women, gray hair pinned neatly into a bun, clad in power business suit starts off the meeting.  "You have reason to believe that the bomber has a connection to a kidnapping case of yours, Mr. Li?"

"Yes, ma'am.  There are remarkable similarities between the letter obtained claiming responsibility for my kidnapping case and those of the bomber."

The door opens hurried, Hwang stepping through, disheveled and sheepish, a 'gomen' on his lips.  He takes the seat to my left, quickly trying to wipe his wry grin off his face. 

I shake my head irritated and continue.  "The use of the strict angles in both of these letters suggests a connection.  A follow up letter to the last bombing claims responsibility and matches that of the one that claims responsibility for Ms. Kinomoto's kidnapping."

The man on the far side of the woman nods.  "I see; there certainly is a strong implication here.  He has never shown this attempt at communication with law enforcement.  Even Mr. Hanaka agrees."

A bald man adjusts his glasses.  "Er yes.  His actions are somewhat different than his usual routine.  He has never openly contacted the police nor resorted to kidnapping as a means to gloat.  This doesn't fit his original M.O.  However…"  Mr. Hanaka leans forward, dropping his voice lower.  "It may also mean that his psychological state has changed, taken a more dangerous path.  He may be becoming even more dangerous."

I tensed.  "Is he violent?"

"Before, I would say no.  Letter bombing tends to be a crime associated with those that are meek and seek to find an outlet for their grievances by far removed violent acts.  But as I said before, if he has kidnapped Ms. Kinomoto and planning to lead the police in a chase, he may have started to shed his quiet personality.  As times goes on and the police can't find him, he may ultimately gain enough tenacity to explore violent behaviour."

The heavyset man in the center of the other directors abruptly stands up.  "This is why we have designated this case to the top of our priority list.  Mr. Li, you will provide us with information about the bomber and we will do the same.  You will meet weekly with our agents."  The man cleared his throat.  "This man is dangerous; work as hard as you can."  The other directors rose with him, all exiting from the far door. 

I look to my right at the suited agents.  "So when's our first meeting?"

The tall one straightens his identification tag.  "This was it.  We will meet here next week.  Information will be sent to Chief Mizuki."  With that he and his partner strode out the door leaving me alone with Hwang.

"Now don't pout Syaoran, it's not very policeman-like."

I let out a ragged breath between my teeth and stand up.  "Fuck off."  I walk quickly through the mazelike halls, finally stopping in front of the elevators.  I can see Hwang's metallic reflection off the elevator door, his face a mask of indifference.  He doesn't really understand the situation; he doesn't have a family breathing down your neck to save their daughter.  And he doesn't understand that a few weeks could be the difference between finding a daughter or a corpse.  To him, it's just another case.  The doors slide open and I punch in 'B' impatiently.  I still have a whole folder to finish going through…

_______________________________________________

Author's Notes:  The next chapter's going to be sort of fun.  And yummy.  I miss Clue; I haven't played in such a long time.